


Soul of a Man

by greeny1710



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arranged Marriage, Eventual Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mentions of Jules & Anthoine, Mild Sexual Content, They lowkey hate each other but it's Lestappen so who is surprised
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-10
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:34:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26394985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greeny1710/pseuds/greeny1710
Summary: Charles' behaviour has been less than Prince-like lately, and it takes another asshole Prince to tame him
Relationships: Charles Leclerc & Alexander Albon, Charles Leclerc/Max Verstappen, Daniel Ricciardo & Max Verstappen, Michael Italiano/Daniel Ricciardo
Comments: 25
Kudos: 167





	Soul of a Man

**Author's Note:**

> **Tumblr anon said** _I don't know if you're accepting new requests so you can ignore this but I've been reading Mone's crowns series and I thought in the rebellious prince of Monaco Charles forced to marry with the prince of the Netherlands Max to wash his image and form a political alliance. Feel free to ignore this if it doesn't go with your plans 😌_ and I am just LIVING for Prince Max and Prince Charles and like it's been nearly a year since I did my first Royal AU and I realised that I will forever be a slut for Royal AUs
> 
> Hope you enjoy xx

“He’s such a fucking asshole,” Max muttered to his advisor, leaning slightly into Daniel as they watched the Prince of Monaco argue with the wife of the heir to the British throne. “Imagine thinking you’re important enough to argue with _Kate Middleton_ , like what a cunt.”

“Watch your language, Maxy, I’m not solving a diplomatic argument between you two.”

“I’m not going to do shit, I’m just saying, he’s a cunt.”

“Yeah, and you called him an asshole too in your previous breath, and to be fair mate, you don’t really have a leg to stand on when it comes to that department.”

Daniel had been Max’s Royal Advisor since he was fifteen years old, practically helping raise Max through his late teenage years whilst grooming him to become His Excellency that would one day take the crown of the Netherlands. Thus, Daniel was the only person that Max would let talk to him like that. 

Not to say that Max was as much of an asshole as _some_ Princes were, nor his own Father, but most people calling him an asshole could expect to not be allowed on these more interesting events and instead do the boring things such as taking Max around a _welding_ factory. 

Why he had to visit a _welding factory_ he still had no idea. That had been a fucking boring day. 

But anyway, back to what was important.

His Royal Asshole. 

Charles fucking Leclerc.

The well known rebellious little dickhead who everyone in the royal circles whispered about and dreaded hearing would be visiting. 

He had a tendency to sneak out the palace, would bat his eyelashes and get a free fucking Ferrari just because he was cute, used to try and sneak away from his security because he found it _funny_ to be chased half way across Europe because he was _bored_. 

Max hated being royalty sometimes but at least he wasn’t a complete twat about it. 

He knew he wasn’t the best loved among the Royal circles, he had a reputation for being argumentative and according to his sister had a resting bitch face to rival even the best of them. But still, Max knew that. He knew he was seen as an asshole but at least he didn’t try and pretend he wasn’t. And his people still loved him. He was good to them, even if he wasn’t good to the other Royals. 

Max watched on in disgust as Charles started knocking back shot after shot.

“He’s such a mess, isn’t he?” Max mumbled and Daniel sighed.

“Give the kid a break, Max. He’s lost a lot of people in his life. If this is how he gets it out-”

“There’s healthier coping mechanisms than getting drunk and running around Europe sleeping with anything with a pulse. He may be pretty but he’s still a person. He shouldn’t exploit his status and his personal life in order to get people to sleep with him.”

“I know, Max. You never know, maybe he will clean up his image soon.”

“Doubt it. There’s nothing that could tame a boy like him.”

If only Max knew…

~

“I’m doing what?!”

“You’re marrying Max Verstappen, the Prince of The Netherlands.”

“You can fuck off.”

“You should’ve learnt to manage your behaviour then.”

“He’s worse than me!”

“I don’t remember him stealing his fourth Ferrari this year alone. Oh wait, that’s because it wasn’t him. It was you, you little asshole.”

“It’s not like I intended to.”

“No,” Alex sighed, “You mean that you didn’t intend to caught, Charles.”

“Statement still stands.”

“You’re marrying him.”

“I barely even know the guy!”

“Didn’t stop you jumping into bed with him before.”

Charles looked sharply up at his advisor, “How do you know about that?”

“Because someone had to pick you up the next day and no one else was stupid enough to do it.”

“Yeah well it’s not like he cares. Doesn’t even look at me anymore. So why the hell should I marry him when he won’t even look at me?”

“Because you’re sending your mother into an early grave, Charles. Honestly. Pascale can’t take this. It’s in the papers _everyday_ Charles. First Giada, then George, then Lando, Pierre, Charlotte, even fricking _Lewis Hamilton_. The only one we kept out of the papers was Max and that’s because we’re all more scared of his father than we are him. Your Mother needs you to settle down, or to at least learn some self-control, Charles. And I spoke with Lorenzo, and Daniel, Prince Max’s advisor. We’ve made the decision. If you can’t control your behaviour, you have to leave. And Max is the only one that’s stupid enough to be able to control you.”

“No he can’t.”

“Trust me, Charles, he can.”

“I won’t let him.”

“I doubt he’ll care. You’ll be his husband by the end of the month. We’re organising the wedding now. Your suit fitting will be next Thursday.” Alex looked down at his phone as he started tapping away, turning on his heel and heading off to go and deal with something else.

“Alex?” Charles called after him, stopping his advisor in his steps, “Will Max be in his military uniform?”

“I believe so, yes.”

Great, Charles thought. Just what he needed. The one boy that he’d had a crush on since he was old enough to know what a crush was, was now destined to be his future husband _and_ he was going to wear that stupid Navy uniform that Charles definitely hadn’t lost hours staring at before when he’d seen photos of Max in it. 

Nope.

Definitely not.

(That blue sash did look really good on Max though, pulling in around his shoulder and accentuating how _fucking broad_ he was)

(Not that Charles noticed. That would be weird)

~

“How are you feeling?” Daniel asked as he helped Max into his white dress shirt.

“You know, I always thought I’d marry you,” Max said quietly, smiling softly at Daniel, “I’m still happy you found Michael and I love him just as much as I love you. But I never thought I’d marry anyone else. And being forced to marry him, I hate it, Dan. I wish I didn’t have to.”

“I hate that it’s a political thing,” Daniel agreed, “He’s an alright kid when you get to know him. But all this political shit just because he’s the rebel of Europe, it’s stupid.”

“Then why did you agree to it?”

“It’ll grant you freedom, Max. It’s what you deserve.”

“I don’t want freedom if it takes me away from you.”

“You’re not losing me that easily, Max,” Daniel smirked and turned Max to face him so that he could knot Max’s tie for him, “Or Michael. We’re both still going to be working with you regardless of if you’re in Monaco or Holland. It’s the same with Charles. Michael will start working with him, and Alex will remain as Charles’ chief advisor and occasionally myself and Alex will work together with both of you. Things will stay relatively the same, except when you go out you’ll have to hold someone else’s hand.”

“I guess Michael will be glad there won’t be more rumours about us anymore.”

“I think Michael’s just sad that there was never a leak about that threesome we had. He would’ve loved the publicity.”

Max laughed wetly and bit at his lip to hold back the tears as he looked at Daniel. 

“Hey, don’t cry. I promise I’m not going anywhere. We’re brothers, yeah? It’s still going to be me and you until the end, Max.”

“What if he’s awful?”

“You don’t have to sleep with him. Put on a brave face when you’re in public and that’s all that matters. When you’re in the palaces together, you don’t even have to be in the same wing if he’s awful. He won’t be. He’s alright.”

“I barely know him.”

“It’ll be alright, my Prince,” Daniel promised and pulled Max into a hug. 

And Max trusted Daniel. He always had and always would. 

He’d been Max’s first proper friend and no matter how much of an asshole the Aussie was, he was still Max’s best friend and he’d love him until the end of time. 

At least Daniel was coming along for this crazy journey with Max. 

God he couldn’t believe he was getting married in two hours…

~

The wedding wasn’t their first meeting for months. They’d been forced into doing a small publicity stunt before the Royal Houses announced the engagement of the two Princes so that some photographs could be shared to convince the people of their countries that they were indeed _madly in love_ and didn’t want to hide their romance anymore. 

Admittedly the pictures had turned out nice and Charles had been shocked when he saw the one of him sitting on some railings with Max stood between his legs. Max had one hand resting lightly on Charles’ jaw and the other around his waist to stop him falling backwards into the ocean. Charles had his head thrown back with laughter dying on his lips and Max was smiling softly, his eyes full of something that Charles didn’t understand as he looked up at Charles.

The Prince wasn’t exactly cold, but he wasn’t the nicest. In his defence, neither was Charles. It was clear neither of them had been happy about the marriage and when Charles saw Max interacting with his advisor, he guessed that was why. It was alright, Charles understood it. It was painful to be in love with someone else and be forced apart from them. Especially someone as beautiful as Daniel Ricciardo. Charles really couldn’t blame Max for falling in love with him. 

They’d occasionally texted on the build up to the wedding, with one cheeky text from Max causing Charles to question what the hell was going on between them.

There’d been a newspaper story, obviously. There always was. The headline had read something about **’LAST NIGHT OF FREEDOM FOR REBEL PRINCE’** and shown Charles stood on a table with a glass of something in each hand, his eyes obviously glossy with drunkenness and a massive grin on his face. 

Max had screenshot the headline and sent it to him with a simple text underneath it.

Max   
  
I love when you become the rebel, must be the bandana that makes you extra bad   
  


Charles had never responded.

Max had never mentioned it again.

And now his future husband was stood at the alter with his chief advisor playing the role of best man stood beside him. 

His Mother had held him back from sneaking a glance and so Charles had simply googled it instead. 

**Prince Max Royal Wedding**

The one shot that stuck out to him was one of him walking towards the Church with Daniel by his side, both of them looking so incredibly smart ~~and beautiful~~ in their military dress. Max had medals over his left pec and a blue sash with gold trim extending over his right shoulder down to his left hip. He’d even been wearing a hat. 

It shouldn’t have made Charles smile, but it really did.

He knew it was part of the uniform but there was something quite amusing to Charles about the fact that Max had been able to sneak a cap into his wedding outfit. 

“Are you ready, baby?” His Mum asked, gently taking Charles’ shaking hand in hers.

“Do I have to, Maman? I’m sorry-”

“You’re marrying him, Charles,” Pascale said with a tone of finality that meant Charles couldn’t argue. 

He knew he’d gone off the rails a bit in recent years. Skipping school, dropping out of uni, getting drunk and sleeping with whoever he wanted. 

It was either that or face up to what was hurting him. 

And he _didn’t_ talk about his emotions.

Maybe he would start doing so if it meant that he didn’t get forced into political image washing marriages that were destined to have Charles miserable for the rest of his life.

Honestly, Charles wouldn’t have as much of an issue with Max not caring about him if he’d just _talk_ to Charles and get it out in the air what had happened when they were only just eighteen. 

He’d never told Max that he was Charles’ first. 

Rumours had run around Europe for years about Charles’ promiscuity, even though he’d always planned on saving himself for marriage and not had sex yet. And then Max fucking Verstappen happened and he’d handed himself over to the other Prince on a silver platter only to get nothing in return. 

He’d forgotten about falling into Alex’s arms and sating nothing for the couple of days after when he’d woken up in Max’s bed at the Palace they’d been staying in and found the other Prince asleep on the sofa. Clearly he wanted nothing to do with Charles and so he’d snuck out back into the arms of the only person that listened to him and stewed silently over the fact that his crush was an asshole.

Only now he was stood at the alter, his Mum had kissed his cheek and he had his hands held in Max Verstappen’s.

The one saving grace was that Max looked as uncomfortable as he did.

“Hi,” Charles mouthed and Max mouthed it back.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness the holy matrimony of these two men.” Charles zoned himself out as the Priest started his speech, speaking the neutral language of English to save a political fight between whether Charles or Max’s nations were being favoured in this marriage. 

Charles automatically dropped to his knees and faced the Priest when the ceremony moved into performing the Lord’s Prayer, hands folding and eyes closing, muttering the words in French and Max following suit in Dutch. Neither of them were religious but still. There were some things that their families wouldn’t compromise on and that was the inclusion of the Lord’s Prayer. As neither Max and Charles cared about the wedding anyway, they both shrugged and let them include it. 

Max helped Charles back to his feet as the prayer finished and they took each other’s hands, with Charles still barely paying attention to his surroundings. 

“Do you, your Royal Highness Prince Charles Marc Hervé Percival Leclerc of Monaco, take thee, his Royal Highness Prince Max Emilian Verstappen of the Netherlands, to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forwards. To love and care for, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?”

Charles snapped back into full attention, rolling his eyes with a fond smile when he saw Max smirking at him at the fact that he hadn’t been paying attention.

“I do,” Charles nodded, squeezing Max’s hands lightly as he took the ring, “With this ring, I pledge my love and allegiance to you. I promise to love you until the day we part and forever more.”

Charles slid the ring onto Max’s finger shakily and smiled awkwardly at him. 

“And do you, your Royal Highness Prince Max Emilian Verstappen of the Netherlands, take thee, his Royal Highness Prince Charles Marc Hervé Percival Leclerc of Monaco, to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forwards. To love and care for, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?”

“I do,” Max repeated and smiled at Charles as he followed suit, repeating the same vow of pledging love to Charles through the usage of a fucking ring. 

The Priest started rattling on about religion and the new matrimony between Charles and Max, and if it wasn’t for the fact that Charles knew this wedding was being broadcast around the world, he’d screw his eyes shut and try and _breathe_ for a moment.

His whole life turned on its head because of a piece of gold. 

“I now pronounce you husband and husband,” the Priest said and looked at Max, clearly seeing him as the one in charge in this marriage, “You may kiss your groom.”

Max took his hands out of Charles’ to cup his jaw and press their lips together, whilst Charles’ hands rested on Max’s hips, his fingers playing lightly with the blue sash.

The kiss was soft, sweet, tender. It wasn’t deep, after all they were still in a House of God and it’s not like they were in love. 

Still, Max’s lips were soft and as their lips moved against one another, Charles felt a part of his heart leave his body. 

Max was perfect. He was a fucking asshole. He was rude. He was grumpy. 

But he was perfect. He made Charles laugh. He had a beautiful smile. He loved his siblings and Daniel so fiercely that Charles was jealous. 

And his people loved him. 

He was perfect. 

“Guess I’m stuck with you now,” Max whispered as they pulled apart, his hands still around Charles’ jaw and hiding their lips from the cameras. They’d seen the kiss, they didn’t need to see their private words to each other.

“Believe me I wish you was someone else too,” Charles whispered back, emanating the mild animosity in Max’s voice.

“This is going to be fun,” Max sighed. He dropped his hands from Charles’ jaw and took his hand, turning to see the assembled crowd and smiling regally in the most trained manner. 

Charles followed suit and waved at someone as they started walking back down the aisle, their fingers tied between them. 

They paused for a moment to allow the press to take their photographs, Max leaning in to kiss him again, before they reached the car that would take them to the Royal Palace where the after party would be taking place. 

Even in the car, they couldn’t relax, having to wave and smile at the crowds as they drove past.

“You can’t let go of my hand,” Max said as they started driving, “The press will still be lurking. At least make it look like you like me.”

“Don’t you think I know that? This isn’t my first time out in public,” Charles snapped back.

“Mate, everyone knows how often you’re in public. That’s why I’ve been fucking lumped with you. To try and tame the brat of Europe.”

“Oh sorry that you’re too good for someone like me.”

Max shrugged and gave Charles a look of pure indifference, “Least you’re pretty to look at. Just don’t get in my way and behave, alright?”

“I’m not a fucking slave, Verstappen.”

Charles looked uncomfortably over at Max for a brief moment however plastered on his best smile as he waved out to the masses. 

Great. He’d been married five minutes and already had a domestic. 

Marriage was going to be fun.

~

They awkwardly held each other close as they took their first dance as husbands. 

Charles had his arms around Max’s neck and Max had his hands resting on Charles’ hips as they gently swayed and spun to the music. 

It was some classical thing. Beethoven or Mozart, Bach even, maybe. 

Max had no idea.

Apparently, Charles had organised that.

The first dance song was important to him, for whatever reason.

“We’ve been given the Royal suite,” Max told him as they spun, “There’s enough room for both of us to be in separate areas.”

“Does the idea of sleeping in the same bed as me make your skin crawl that badly?”

“Don’t want you getting any ideas,” Max shrugged. 

“You’re such an asshole.”

“That’s why you married me, honey bunch. Now, best smile, your Mum is watching.”

Charles gave a sarcastic, slightly angry, smile back as Max spun them so that Charles’ mum could see him.

Max had seen the way she smiled sadly as she clung to her eldest, Lorenzo patting her hand comfortingly. 

If she really didn’t want to lose Charles, she shouldn’t have married him off to someone that lived halfway across the continent. Even if he was a little asshole, he still didn’t understand how someone could just give their child away. 

Charles was still _a kid_ and maybe at nearly twenty three years old he should be behaving, but he was young. He was stupid. He was impulsive. Because that’s what you are in your early twenties. 

The only reason Max wasn’t was purely because Daniel would murder him and/or quit his job. 

The only reason Max behaved was because Daniel was there. 

It’s not like his Dad had ever been there to teach him how to behave. What he taught Max was how to be an asshole and Max tried his fucking best not to embody that. 

Not that Daniel would let him. It was kinda funny how much Daniel hated royalty to say he worked for the Prince in waiting to the Dutch throne. Or maybe he just hated Max’s Dad. He didn’t blame him. His Dad wasn’t the best. 

“I should’ve known you were no better than your father,” Charles muttered and Max tightened his grip on Charles’ hips. 

“You can shut the fuck up about shit you don’t know. Believe me, I’m the lesser of all the evils mate,” Max muttered back and shook his head lightly. 

He met Daniel’s eye over Charles’ shoulder who gave him a look that Max knew meant ‘you better fucking behave’.

Frankly, Max couldn’t care less. 

At this point, he was prepared to just have a giant bust up with Charles in the middle of this dancefloor and badabing-badaboom he could get divorced. 

Better than being stuck married to this idiot for the rest of his life. 

~

Settling into married life was…

_Easy_

Charles stayed out of Max’s way and Max stayed out of Charles’. 

They spent most of their time in Holland, Charles holding Max’s hand dutifully as they walked the events that they were forced into attending. Charles didn’t speak great Dutch but he was getting there, and Daniel was normally by their side to help translate what Charles didn’t catch when Max was busy being the Prince. 

Max had even attended his littlest sister’s school sports event at one point, playing the role of ‘Dad’ so that she had someone around to support her that wasn’t just her Royal Highness’ security along with Charles. 

And Charles had found it alright. The kids were all little, they were funny, they wanted to chat and ask questions about how ‘was he now a Princess because he married the Prince’ and how he made Prince Maxy smile so they liked him, and Jaye had even coerced Charles into taking part in the _Parents_ race. 

He won. Obviously. 

When his new littlest friend needed him to run, Charles fucking sprinted. He wasn’t letting Max have more ammunition on how he’d been beaten on his first official ‘family outing’ for the Royal Family. 

The more time he and Max spent in each other’s company, the better they got along. It was easier to fake their love the longer they’d been together and it’s not like Charles had to stick his tongue down Max’s throat every day for the press. In fact, since the wedding, they’d not kissed. 

They hadn’t even hugged. 

The most physical contact they had was when Charles held Max’s hand as they attended their events. 

It didn’t bother Charles. 

If anything, it was nice. It was better. 

It made that stupid crush he had on the Dutchman easier to manage when he was essentially being treated like he always had. 

What wasn’t made easier was the fact that wherever Max was, Daniel wasn’t far behind. 

Sure Max and Charles didn’t have a conventional marriage, but still. Max was _his_ husband and he didn’t like how the advisor was constantly hanging off Max, or the other way around. They were always looking at each other, pressing close and whispering in each other’s ears, smiling and laughing in a way that Max never did with Charles. 

“Come on, Maxy, put your back into it lad. Michael doesn’t spend all his time getting you a beautiful arse for you to not bother with your workouts.”

“Darling if you wanted to see my arse you could’ve just come to my room a little earlier.”

And there was the other issue.

They were _always flirting_.

Charles had expected it. He knew what he was marrying into. 

It would’ve just been a tad nicer for him if he didn’t have to watch the boy he was crushing on flirting with someone else every hour of the day. 

Even when they were doing their workouts, Daniel was _always_ around making lewd comments about Max’s body and Charles did his level best to ignore him. 

Alex was never there. 

It’s not like you need your Chief Advisor there when you were doing workouts, and when Max flirted with Michael as well, it was clear that Max had a good relationship with the staff and didn’t need Daniel to mediate it. 

“Max,” Charles called out before Daniel could reply. “I’m going to visit my mother at the weekend.”

“That’s not in the schedule,” Daniel said.

“I don’t care. I’m going to see my Mother. End of discussion. You are not in charge of me.”

“No, he isn’t,” Max said, “But I am. I’m your husband.”

“Maybe you should start acting like one then,” Charles snapped, turning on his heel and stalking out of the gym. 

It didn’t take long for Charles to find Alex, walking in to his office without knocking and interrupting whatever meeting he was having with the groundskeeper. 

“Alexander, we’re going home, darling.”

“I’m sorry?”

“We’re going to Monaco. Pack your belongings. Or don’t. I don’t care. But I’m going.”

“You’re not allowed without Prince Max.”

“I’m not being fucking oppressed into acting like a good little housewife!” Charles yelled, “I’m the Prince of Monaco and you will treat me with respect!”

“You’re Prince Max’s husband, that’s the contract, your Highness. When you married Max, the agreement was that you’d be seen with him at all times on non-Royal business so as to clean up your act.”

“This is bullshit.”

“This is your fault, Charles. We tried to tell you and you didn’t listen. You are a married man. You are a Royal Prince. You are the Prince of Monaco and the husband to the heir of the Dutch throne and you will have to serve Max as well as your country. You’re not an alcoholic, car stealing hooligan. If you want to do that, relinquish your right to the throne and to royalty, you can divorce Max and go and do whatever the hell you want. But right now, you are Prince Charles of Monaco and Holland and you will listen to what you are told to do.”

“Get fucked, Alexander,” Charles sneered before slamming the door shut behind him and sprinting to his bedroom. 

He and Max had separate rooms in the palace and Charles had seriously never been more grateful. He packed some clothes as tears streamed down his face. His old stuffed penguin that he’d had since the day his parents presented him to the world on the steps of The Princess Grace Hospital Centre all those years ago was placed delicately on top of his belongings and he shouldered the bag. 

Keeping his head down, Charles scrubbed at his eyes as he walked the endless corridors of the palace towards the garages. 

“Going somewhere?”

Charles looked up to see Max leaning against an Aston Martin, arms folded across his chest. 

“I’m going home.”

Max stared at Charles for a moment before sighing, “Get in the car Charles.”

“No. I’m going home.”

“Yeah, I know. I’ll take you.”

“I’m going _home_ , Max.”

“Yeah, I got that the first three times, darling.” Max smirked, “Get in the fucking car, Leclerc.”

“It’s _Leclerc-Verstappen_ , sweetheart,” Charles quipped back, not able to take his eyes off the smirk that grew into Max’s eyes. 

God he loved this asshole…

“Sorry, your _Highness_ , get in the fucking car _Leclerc-Verstappen_.”

“That’s better,” Charles said and opened the car door to slide in, backpack of belongings at his feet. 

“Well, guess there’s no better way to test a marriage than to road trip nearly 14 hours through Europe, is there?” Max said as he started the car and drove out of the grounds.

“Is _Daniel_ going to join us?”

“Um… no?”

“Sound pretty unsure of yourself there, Max.”

“More just confused where this obsession with Dan came from to be fair.”

“I know you want to be with him-” Charles was cut off from continuing by the fact that Max burst out laughing, his eyes briefly closing before he realised he was driving and couldn’t do that.

“Mate, I don’t want to be with Dan. He’s my best mate but he drives me up the fucking wall.”

“But you’re always flirting with him…”

“I had a crush on Daniel when I was fifteen. And he’s never let me live it down. We flirt because it’s fun and it means Daniel get angry possessive sex with his _husband_.”

A beat of silence echoed through the car before Charles said, “His what…?”

“Michael? His husband? As in Michael Italiano-Ricciardo. You know, the guy that trains us? That’s Dan’s husband.”

Charles sighed and fell back into his seat slightly. 

Daniel was married…

And Max was married…

But not to Daniel.

Meaning Max was Charles’ for the wooing. Aside from this little stunt, he’d been a pretty good husband. He’d toned down his behaviour, he wasn’t getting in as much trouble and his face hadn’t been plastered across the headlines lately. 

Maybe he could get Max to fall for him...

“There is something I need to talk to you about though,” Max said and from the tone of his voice, Charles knew it wasn’t going to be nice. They were zooming down the A2 out of Amsterdam now, and with the way Max had his fingers tight on the steering wheel, Charles _knew_ he’d want to jump out the car.

“What is it?”

Please please please don’t let it be that Max had met someone

Please please please don’t let it be that Max wants a divorce

“I’m going back out to sea.”

Charles frowned.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m taking up my position as Commandeur again.”

“But why?”

“It’s part of my enlistment, Charles. I have to serve so much time and I’m getting ready to go back out. It’s why Michael’s been doing so much work with me lately.”

“But it’s dangerous…”

“I know,” Max gently said, “But it’s my job, Charles. And whilst I’m away, you can stay in Monaco if you want.”

“I don’t want you to go,” Charles whispered. 

“What?”

“I don’t want you to go.”

“I thought you’d want the freedom.”

“Not if it means I lose you. I don’t want you to go again,” Charles told him and Max looked over at him. 

Max pulled up in a small car park that was relatively empty and cut the engine.

“What do you mean go again?”

“You left me once. I don’t want you to go,” Charles admitted and Max’s frown deepened.

“I don’t get it.”

“When we were eighteen. You fucked me and then ran.”

“No I didn’t?”

“Yes you did! You were the first boy I ever slept with and you fucked me over!”

“Charles, I didn’t-”

“It was at Kensington Palace, back in 2015. I’d never been with anyone, and I gave myself to you and you fell asleep on the sofa instead of sleeping beside me.”

Max frowned harder before a look of realisation fell over his face.

“No. No I didn’t. You left me.”

“You fell asleep!”

“I’d been on the phone! I’d fallen asleep telling Daniel where we both were so that he could stand down the security that were looking for us and I didn’t want to wake you so I went to the sofa,” Max explained, “And when I woke up, you were gone. And you never wanted to talk to me. You always would run off and you were busy flirting and sleeping with everyone else. You didn’t care about me so why should I care about you?”

“I’ve been crushing on you since I was eight years old, Max!”

“I’m not a fucking mind-reader, Charles! I didn’t know that, did I? All I knew was that you rebelled against everyone and everything and you didn’t care about people!”

“I miss my Dad!” Charles screamed, his voice echoing loudly around the confined car, “And I miss Jules! And Anthoine! I miss them so fucking much and I don’t know how to talk to people because I’m a fucking Prince and I’m not meant to have fucking emotions but I miss them!”

Max tugged Charles into his arms as he started crying hard, clutching onto the back of Max’s shirt between his fists. Max gently shushed him, rocking them slightly and kissing his temple. 

“I know, I know, get it out, cry it out, baby,” Max murmured. 

Max brushed his fingers through Charles’ hair, scraping over his head with blunt fingernails as Charles shook and sobbed in his arms. 

“Je manque mon père,” Charles cried and Max nodded. 

“I know you do, and I can’t ever replace him, but I’ll be there for you, Charles. You’re not on your own. I’m here,” Max whispered, pulling Charles off his shoulder and holding his jaw in his hands, “I’m here, baby.”

“Max,” Charles whispered back. 

“Charles.”

“Kiss me.”

Max smiled and lent in, brushing his lips over Charles’, before Charles pushed back harder, hands coming up between Max’s to hold his shoulders. 

“My Prince,” Max whispered as he pulled away, thumb coming to brush away the tear tracks from Charles’ face and to push away the salt from his lips. 

“I love you, you idiot,” Charles told him and Max smirked. 

“Of course you do, I’m great.”

“I regret marrying you.”

“I know,” Max winked, “But you’re stuck with me forever now.”

“Lord in Heaven forgive me, I don’t deserve this,” Charles sighed good-naturedly with tears still falling but a slightly happier feeling in his heart. 

They sat in the car for a little while longer. For once, not being the Princes. Instead, they were two young men, falling in love with no expectations around them. 

And Charles definitely did deserve it.

**\----- THREE YEARS LATER -----**

“Levi, can you see Papa?” Charles said, bouncing his little two year old on his hip as they looked out for his husband.

Levi was craning his neck, Charles barely able to keep hold of his baby boy as they watched the ship finish docking.

Max had been gone four months, busy at sea doing his job as Royal Commandeur, and as proud of him Charles was, he wanted his man back.

And their little boy wanted his Papa.

“Papa!” Levi yelled and Charles looked up just in time to see Max jump onto the docks.

Cameras were flashing around them as the Prince returned from his first tour of duty since his son had been born two years ago. Max walked up to them, removing his hat as he walked with the biggest smile on his face.

“Papa!” Levi yelled again, his arms out stretching towards Max.

“Afternoon, schat,” Max murmured, taking Levi into his arm and wrapping his other arm around Charles.

For a moment, Charles didn’t even care about kissing Max. 

He was simply glad to have him back in his arms.

And just in time for their anniversary too.

**Author's Note:**

> I LOVE LEVI OKAY
> 
> kudos, comments & feedback always greatly appreciated💙
> 
> Tumblr is at 3303andmore xx


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